A test without a finish line

Assalamu alaikum, I need to get something off my chest. At 28, I just found out I have a chronic autoimmune condition, and it’s like a never ending trial. While my friends are sharing happy news with their parents about weddings, career wins, mashallah, I truly want the best for them in dunya and akhira, I’m the one telling my folks their son is unwell. That reality sits heavy on me. The illness plays tricks: it cycles through flare ups and remissions, but I haven’t seen a remission yet. A remission means your symptoms fade, you feel normal, just keeping up with medication. To get there, they offer treatments, the top one right now is biologics, meds made from living cells that dampen your immune system. That ties you tightly to where you live, to your country’s healthcare setup, making it tough to move abroad or even travel freely. I always dreamed of working in another land. In Islam, we know tests come for believers, and merely claiming faith won’t smooth the road. But all I see online are stories of people beating their trials, emerging tougher. What about a test with no clear end? If my body isn’t dealing with raw physical signs, my mind wrestles with the fear that someday, it’ll flare again. Subhanallah, we humans feel it’s the biggest injustice when health slips away, as if we somehow earned it. I didn’t do anything to bring this on, nor did the millions suffering similarly. It appeared one morning like a light switched, no warning. Forgive my rambling. I’ve kept quiet about this illness to avoid drowning in it or letting doubt whisper sinful questions. I drifted from my friends, and now not a single one checks in. So maybe you sense how I could talk endlessly about all I’ve lost this year, yet alhamdulillah for every decree. Thanks for hearing me out. Jazakallahu Khairan.